


Pistachio Ice Cream

by markwatneyandensemble



Series: Farrs Corner AU [1]
Category: The X-Files
Genre: F/M, Fluff, I pinky swear, tons - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-23
Updated: 2018-07-23
Packaged: 2019-06-15 01:27:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,140
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15401955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/markwatneyandensemble/pseuds/markwatneyandensemble
Summary: They have a daughter. Tons of Dad!Mulder.





	Pistachio Ice Cream

She was standing there. Just standing there. Silhouetted by the sunrise out the window, and staring absently with a cup of coffee in hand. These were his favorite mornings. The mornings where he reverted back to his old 90’s self. The mornings where he was frozen in place, convinced if he made another move he would disturb the entire perfect scene. Like those days long behind him when he thought he could only view her from a distance.

But then it hit him, the way it always did on days like these. With a warm sensation in his chest. How he wasn’t an observer anymore. That he could interact. Sensing his gaze, her still form flinched all of a sudden. Her head turned slightly to the side. He knew she could see him, even with her hair falling over her eye. He could see the corner of her mouth turn up, and then she returned to her position.

His arms were around her waist before either knew it, his face pressed into her neck as she quietly set the mug down in the sink. She interlaced her fingers with his as he covered her jaw and cheek with small kisses. Before long, she had turned in his arms, and her soft mouth met his, wet and hot like the night before, forgoing any buildup or slow wake up. She tasted like coffee and mint toothpaste, a combination that on Scully’s tongue was somehow the best thing in the world. Their kiss deepened, like it was a morning they had nowhere to be and no kids in the house. Neither was aware of their surroundings enough to tell how time had passed or who had entered the room, but it was the loud slam of a cabinet door that broke them apart. 

They took a second to catch their breath before Mulder turned to watch his daughter angrily rifling through cupboards.   
  
“How do we have no food?” she snarled at them.

“Morning, honey,” Scully greeted her, stepping out of Mulder’s embrace. “I was gonna have an egg for breakfast, you want one?”  
  
Mulder made a mental note to make an egg and glanced at Gracie to see if she’d taken the offer. His gaze was met with angry, intense blue eyes she got from her mother.

“I hate eggs. You know I hate eggs.”  
  
“You liked that one Dad made-“ Scully stopped speaking when she was on the receiving end of those daggers. “We could have pancakes? Bagels? We might have a little yogurt in the back of the fridge.”

“Never mind,” Gracie nearly screamed, before slamming another cabinet door and storming out of the kitchen.

They were silent for a moment, before Scully turned back to look at Mulder. “What’s bothering her?”  
  
He shook his head. “I don’t know, she was pretty mad when she got home last night too.”  
  
“You didn’t overhear her say anything?” He shook his head again.

“I wonder if its something at school. She has that big test today…” Scully’s voice trailed off knowing their guesses were useless. Two former FBI detectives, but neither could figure out what was in their kid’s head.

Mulder reached out and squeezed Scully’s arm in reassurance. “Scrambled or over-easy?”

“Scrambled,” she said, her gaze fixed on the doorway.

* * *

By the time they left for school, Gracie had managed to calm down enough to avoid ripping his car door off it’s hinges. It didn’t stop her from taking the seat furthest from him in the car.

“Hey, kid, you wanna stop and get some pastries for breakfast?” he looked in the rear view mirror at her crossed arms and glare out the window.

“Don’t care.”

He paused at an intersection for a second, worried that either choice would be the wrong one, but decided to make a right instead of a left. Bakery it was.

She was silent as he pulled up to the curb, and made no indication that she would get out.

He cracked a window, and left the car without a word, walking up through the old, squeaky door.

“No Gracie today?” Mia asked. She’d grown fond of the Mulder-Scully family ever since they started coming in for breakfast on important occasions. The day of a test Gracie was worried about. The last Friday before holiday break. Before a field trip. Scully would meet them sometimes. Mia would always send pastries with Mulder the mornings she had had to go in for work early. Even Jackson had spent so much time in Mia’s shop that she offered him a job when he was home for summers.

“Gracie’s having a rough morning and wanted to wait in the car.” The older woman nodded as he took in the day’s selection.

“I saw that boy she’s been seeing yesterday,” Mia said.

“Oh yeah?” Up until that point, Mulder had avoided thinking it could be about that. He’d made it two months without strangling the punk, and wanted to keep up that streak for his daughter. And besides, Scully had first dibs. “Was anything unusual?”  
  
Mia stared into the distance thinking. “I’m not sure. He was with this other girl, but I thought she was his sister.”

Mulder’s heart began to thud. “Do you think it was his sister?”  
  
“I don’t know, dear. I never liked that boy though, and so you may want to ask Gracie about it.”

Mulder’s gut clenched at the thought. He couldn’t ask her if the answer was no. He couldn’t put her through that. “She’s probably just stressed about the midterm,” he managed.

Mia met his eyes and both knew he was lying. “Probably.”

They were silent for a second, before Mulder spoke again.

“I’ll have a blueberry scone, and uh… just give me a chocolate croissant and a danish. What she doesn’t eat, I’ll take to Scully.”

Mia smiled and began bagging his order.   
  
“Wait a second, Mulder,” Mia said, after ringing him up. She disappeared into the back and returned with a large to-go cup. “Some hot chocolate for the girl. Extra marshmallows and whipped cream like she likes. On the house.”  
  
“Mia-“

“Mulder, you’re not paying for it. Now take the girl to school. Don’t want to make her late for that test.” He nodded, the lump in his throat not fading.

He walked out to the car, and up to Gracie’s open window. She glared at him in a wordless dare to speak. He silently handed her the cup and the pastry bag, and then walked around the car to drive away.

  
They were pulling into the drop off zone at school when she spoke for the first time, quietly, with her voice cracking. “Dad?”

He looked back at her, and for the first time that morning, noticed her eyes were puffy and slightly bloodshot. Her scowl was replaced by furrowed eyebrows. “Yeah, honey?”  
  
“Thanks.” She handed him the bag back, it containing two and a half pastries.

“No problem,” he gave her a small, encouraging smile. “You want the rest of the croissant? I think I have a napkin around here-“  
  
“No, that’s okay,” she said quietly, staring out the window.

“You sure? You have that big test today-“

He saw her stare fixed on something, and her eyes beginning to water. He followed her gaze to two people with lips locked, and realized Mia had been wrong. That girl wasn’t  _his_  sister.

“Gracie-“ he tried, his heart breaking for his daughter.

“Dad, I have to go-“ she wiped her eyes aggressively, and grabbed her backpack from the nearby seat.

Mulder locked the door before she could open it.

“Dad-“ she began, her anger beginning to resurface.  
  
“I’ll call you in,” Mulder said. “You’re looking a little sick. Might be contagious.”

She didn’t argue. In the rearview mirror, Gracie slumped back in her seat and pulled her hoodie a little tighter.

* * *

Mulder pulled down the long driveway and put the car in park. Gracie began to unbuckle her seatbelt.

“Hey Gracie?”

She looked back at him wordlessly.

“I’m gonna run the danish to Mom’s office. Don’t want to be tempted to eat it.”

Gracie nodded and began to get out of the car before sliding back in her seat.

“Don’t kill him,” she said quietly, staring at her lap.

Mulder laughed softly. “Don’t worry, your mom won the right to do that in a game of crazy-8′s.”

“Dad-”

“Hey, he deserves it.”

She sighed, and wiped her cheeks again. “Yeah he does.”  
  
Mulder smiled proudly. “Glad I don’t have to explain that to you.”

She nodded and reached for the door again.

“Hey, Gracie?” she stopped and turned back to him. He was tempted not to say anything, to give her space, but he was more worried about her shutting him out and not getting to say it. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about it yet, but I’m sorry.”  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest and rolled her eyes, tears beginning to form despite her attempts at hiding it. “You probably don’t want to hear it right now, but you’re an amazing girl, and people like him don’t deserve you. I mean, in my opinion no one will, but one day you’re gonna meet someone who sees that you are, and until then you should just focus on being proud of how smart, and kind, and wonderful YOU are.”  
  
“Dad.” Another eye roll. She still avoided making eye contact.

“That said, it always sucks to be dumped, take it from a true pro-“

“DAD.” She looked completely offended. “I dumped  _him_.”

His heart surged with pride. “You did?”  
  
“You don’t think I would?” 

“I don’t know, I just know first loves are-“  
  
She scoffed again. “It wasn’t love.”

More pride, but he tried to keep it hidden. “No?”

“Love’s about trust, right?” she glanced at him for reassurance.

“Yeah, that’s an important factor.” He stayed quiet, not wanting to say the wrong thing just as she was opening up.

“Well, I stopped trusting him the second he brought me an orange soda the other day.”  
  
“Oooh.” Mulder cringed. “Wrong choice.” She vehemently hated orange soda. Said it tasted like cough syrup.

“And then he kept forgetting to meet me when we planned. I mean, he couldn’t even remember my favorite soda. Hell, he couldn’t even remember my absolute LEAST favorite soda.” Tears were beginning to slide down her face as she spoke. “Lily was just the nail in the coffin.”

“Sweetie, I’m so sorry. If it helps, I’m really proud of you.”

She looked up at him and rolled her eyes. “Hey, hey, none of that.  _I am_. You know more about love and being treated right than I did at your age. Maybe even double your age.”

She rolled her eyes again, but less convincingly. “I learned from the best,” she said, so quietly he almost didn’t hear it.

His breath caught in his throat for the second time that day as she jutted her chin at the picture of her mother on his dashboard. It was one of three pictures of his family he took wherever he went.

Mulder wasn’t sure what to say. “Glad all that making out with your mom paid off.”

She scrunched her nose. “Gross. I said love, not lust.”

“With your mom its intertwined-“

“I’m getting out.” She reached for the door again and stepped out. He was just grateful her tears had temporarily stopped.

She was heading up the stairs of the house when she turned around abruptly and ran back to the car. He rolled down the window.

“Dad? Can you not tell Mom about this? At least until tonight?”

“Gracie, she’s worried about you-“

“I know, but she’d want to come home and everything, and I just want space.” She looked at him, no longer the angry and bitter kid she’d been this morning but the sweet, wonderful one he knew.

“Five thirty. I think I can keep it under wraps until five thirty. Be ready for lots of hugs and chocolate. No negotiations.”

She gave him a smile. “But tell her I’m sorry I was so angry this morning.” He nodded. “And… thanks, Dad.” She tried to awkwardly hug him through the open window, before walking back up the stairs.

He was about to turn the car around, but leaned out of the window quickly before she had made it inside.

“Gracie?” he called.

“YEAH?” she shouted from the porch.

“Text me the kinds of ice cream you want.”

His eyesight was going, but even from the distance he could see her roll her eyes. “Okay, I know it’s cliche, but if you don’t, I’ll get three pints of pistachio. You think orange soda is bad-“  
  
“Fine.” He could’ve sworn he saw her give another small smile, before heading back into the house. 


End file.
